Five years.

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Four years.

Pink - Crystal Ball (Funhouse Tour Live In Australia)
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Drinking wine and thinking bliss, is on the other side of this
I just need a compass and a willing accomplice
All my doubts that fill my head are skidding up and down again
Up and down and round again, down and up and down again

Oh, I've had my chances and I've taken them all
Just to end up right back here on the floor
To end up right back here in on the floor

Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel
Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell
But I'm not scared at all...hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm

The cracks in the crystal, the cracks in the Crystal Ball

Sometimes you think everything is wrapped inside a diamond ring
Love just needs a witness and a little forgiveness
And a halo of patience and a less sporadic pace and

I'm learning to be brave in my beautiful mistakes

Oh I've felt that fire and I've been burned
But I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned
I wouldn't trade the pain for what I've learned

Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel
Fortune teller that says maybe you will go to hell
But I'm not scared at all...hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm

Of the cracks in the crystal, the cracks in the crystal ball

Irony, irony, this hate and love, hate and love
What it does to me, what it's done to me
What is done...done

Pennies in a well, a million dollars in the fountain of a hotel
Broken mirrors and a black cats cold stare
Walk under ladders on my way to hell, I'll meet you there

But I'm not scared at all, hmm...I'm not scared at all.

Three years.

Pink - Who Knew | Music Videos | SPIKE.com

Happy Birthday Nick.

I can't believe you would have been 34 today.

Actually, I guess I can't believe you've been gone two years, five months and one day.

These Dreams

They throw me off for days after I have one. The one I had Saturday morning was so vivid I woke up sobbing and felt sad all day. I don't remember all of it, or all of the details, but the parts I remember still make me sad when I think about them. We were cuddled up in his bed, although it wasn't his bed, and it wasn't his house, but his mom was there so who knows. We were just talking and laughing, goofing off like we'd do when we were able to spend the weekends together, and I remember his mom saying something from the living room/kitchen(?). She said something along the lines of "If you keep doing what you've always done, you'll always get what you always got". Those weren't her exact words, but that's what she meant. I'll admit that I should have walked away from him a long time before I did. But I loved him *so* much. So much that, more often than not, it hurt. He spent two years and eight months pushing me away, and up until August 1, 2006, I pushed back. Harder. And then I didn't have any push left.
Back to the dream. I don't really remember what happened after she said that. I just know that I got really sad and started crying and was curled up at the head of the bed on the pillows.
He kept asking me what was wrong and I finally screamed, "I"m CRAZY, OKAY? You're not here and I'm talking and laughing with you. And you're NOT HERE."
He kept asking me what I meant by he wasn't there and I finally told him, "You killed yourself two and half years ago, you selfish son of a bitch!"
That's when I woke up in wracking sobs.

I was on my way to my best friend's son's little league opening season parade and festivities and this song came on my MP3 player, which was on DJ, Random Play All. Strange, huh?



This song came on next.

Two years.

The view.

This is what I saw when I heard, "He's dead."

I was driving home from a weekend in Dallas, a great weekend actually. That greatness came to an abrupt, screeching halt.

I went up to the Fort Worth area this past weekend, but I went up 6 to 35 to get there, so Sunday was the first time I'd been in that spot in almost two years.

It was weird. I was anxious about it the whole day, and distracted. Which isn't a good thing while driving 75 down the interstate. I couldn't remember exactly where I was, but I knew it was after Centerville (that's my DQ stop) because I had stopped there to let Chelsea go potty and to get a frosty treat. That frosty treat was later thrown away. I remembered that I pulled over at a weigh station right after Krystal said those words. So, once I went through Centerville and saw the "All trucks next right if lights flashing" I knew that was it.

I wasn't really prepared for what I felt, and how it hit me. After talking to someone who has become a TERRIFIC friend, I think she nailed it. This time, I knew the truth-there was no doubt that he was dead. If you remember, my phone died shortly after I talked to Krystal so it didn't really SINK in. I didn't REALLY believe it until I got home, plugged my phone in and the voice mails and text messages started piling up from everyone trying to get a hold of me. And then I saw the box of "us" sitting on the table. I'd gotten it down out of the closet to get out the bottle of perfume he'd given me for Valentine's day.

It's so strange the details I remember. I have always been very detail oriented, and remember the strangest, seemingly minute details, but it's even worse when it comes to him.

And one time, we danced.

I don't know why this memory has been in my head so prominently the last few days...

I met them at a little restaurant for dinner on my way into town one Friday evening. We had a great meal, and his mom and grandmother headed back to the house. We were headed back to the house too, but made a stop at Coushatta. (I HATE gambling and think it's the biggest waste of money, but I really wanted a drink!) We walked around a bit, him showing me the stuff he worked on while working on the construction projects they did there. Then we made our way to the Miko Room where there is pretty much always live music. They had a nice sized dance floor so we took to it and while the dance floor was pretty crowded, it was like we were the only two people out there.

The spark.

We were walking from the main house to my garage apartment after our first date and he put his hand at the "small" of my back (it was certainly smaller then). That's when I felt it. It was like I'd been shocked with static electricity, but I felt it on the inside, not on the surface of my skin the way it usually feels.

And he said, "Did you feel that?"

And that's when I knew he was someone that was going to be very special to me.

God, I miss him.

Happy Leap Year

Four years ago I asked Nick to marry me. I was kidding, kind of. Apparently, it's appropriate for a woman to propose to man on February 29th.

"Rules of courtship are quite different these days (and much less strict), but long ago women who were hoping to marry had to wait for their beaus to propose. They were not "allowed" to pop the question themselves, except on one day: on a leap year (February 29th) -- also known as Sadie Hawkins Day -- which occurs every four years. The tradition dates back hundreds of years, to when the leap year was not recognized by English law; the day was simply "leapt over" and ignored. Since it had no legal status, formal traditions did not apply on this day. Consequently, women who were not content to wait for a proposal took advantage of this anomaly and popped the question themselves. It was also thought that since leap year corrected the discrepancy between the calendar year (365 days) and the time it takes for the earth to complete one orbit of the sun (365 days and 6 hours), it was an opportunity for women to correct a tradition that was one-sided and unfair. Go ladies of yore!"

He obviously said no, but explained that when he proposed to me, he knew exactly how and where he was going to do it. Of course, I never found out what he'd had planned. I sure wish I had.
His 33rd birthday is next Sunday, March 9th.

13 months

Yesterday was 13 months. I was on my way to my second survivors of suicide support group when I realized it. I'd had a really shitty day and wasn't going to go, but I felt like I had to. I'm glad I did. It's hard, and I don't like crying the way I do when I'm there, in front of all of those people that I don't know, but no one judges. No one shakes their head at the things I say. In fact, they all nod in agreement at the way I'm feeling, or at the seemingly absurd things I say. You see, they're where I am. Sure, some of them are further along, some aren't as far along, but they get it. They get me. I'm glad I found them. Because right now they are the people I need. If you've never lost anyone to suicide, I pray with all of my heart that you never do. That you never feel this... this emptiness, this guilt, this anger, this hate, this hopelessness, this despair, this sadness.

Stupid MySpace

I was coming over here to blog about something, got to looking around and found something that was like a punch in the gut.

The girl Nick was seeing is pregnant. Not with his child, of course. I'm not sure why it's bothering me so much.

I was coming over to blog about a pretty big decision I've made, I think. I was on my way back to the office from a Dr. appointment Monday morning and was listening to the radio (which I NEVER do) and started hearing this advertisement about Endometriosis. My ears perked up, of course. It was about a research study for an investigational research medication. I got here and looked up the website (www.petalstudy.com, if you're interested), filled out the questionnaire and got a call Wednesday to set up an appointment. I have to be off of OC's for one month before going in for my first appointment. So, I've got an appointment for September 13th. I sent a fax to my GYN yesterday to get his opinion on the study, but I haven't heard back from his office yet. Well, it's too late to start my OC for this month, and I had been thinking about going off of it anyway so it looks like I won't be taking it for a while. I hope that doesn't turn out to be the wrong decision and that I'm not in unbearable pain in the next few months. I guess I am going to participate in the study even if I don't hear from my GYN. I mean, what do I really have to lose?

Save My Life

She's back on drugs again
Even though she knows it ain't right
She can't even call up her friends
And say "help me save my life"
She's so ashamed of herself that she's come full circle
Nobody understands what it's like to
Be this girl
So she disappeared, and she
Wasn't clear, and she
Didn't say where she was going

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me

She had the man of her dreams
And some success
And she was so happy, and looking well
It was this one dark night, that she
Slipped
And then the next morning that she
Felt like a piece of shit
So she's hanging out, and she's
With the crowd, and she's
Travelin' where the wind is blowing

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me

And he's a real good guy and he
Wants to save her 'cause he's
More than been there all before
And she's so confused and his heart is breaking and he
Dreams she's knocking on his door

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me



Now, if you know me at all, you know that I have never had a "drug problem". But for three years, "HE", was my drug. I don't know what to do without him most days. I wish he would stop playing in my head, in my dreams, but I don't know what to do to delete him from my every day life. Just when I think I am getting on with my life, a night like tonight comes along where I question every decision I've made the last 10 months.
I can't believe Pete's been gone for almost a year. I remember the night I heard things had taken a turn for the worse, and that he wasn't expected to live another week. How could I have known it would only be another few hours? If I had known that, I would have made every effort to get to him and to tell him thank you for being the father I didn't have during that time.
I think about Pete and Nick often at the same time, I guess, because they passed so close to one another (within three months of one another).
It pisses me off more than you can ever know that I have seen SO many people FIGHT with all of their being to LIVE, and he gave up "just like that". What the hell gave him the right? How DARE he leave those of us that cared about him more he ever knew?
I see a dark blue Dodge truck, or a dark green Explorer and I see him. I don't want to. I don't want to see him, I don't want to think about him, but he finds someway to get in "there", and I don't know how to stop him.

No more dreams, please.

I've been dreaming about Nick every night for about the past week. I wake up in tears and unable to breathe. The one last night was especially hard to wake up from. I keep dreaming that he's not dead. That he faked his death to get out of some kind of trouble or something.
He came to my apartment in the middle of the night and we sat up for hours just talking, him crying, me wiping away his tears like I used to do when he'd cry, which wasn't very often, and like he'd do when I cried. Then he left my apartment to take some little girl home (no idea about that, it was totally random) and I went to find him after a few minutes but couldn't. I woke up saying his name and crying. I keep thinking that he ISN'T dead, that it was NOT him in that casket. I know it's easy to slip into denial when you don't have the closure of a funeral, or even a memorial service, but I SAW HIM in the casket, I saw them CLOSE the casket after we all said goodbye, after I kissed him for the last time. Why am I still fighting to accept that he's gone? Why can't I move on?

TGIF

It's been a shitty week. I really thought that if I could get over March 9th, that I'd start getting better. I stayed home sick Friday, slept most of the day. When I wasn't sleeping, my thoughts were consumed with Nick. Of memories, of regrets, of the fact that I really don't know how I will ever possibly love anyone that much ever again. Last weekend I really didn't do much. Slept a lot, bathed the dogs, washed the car on Saturday. Slept a lot, did laundry, watched SATC and groomed Chelsea and Toby (a friend's dog) on Sunday. Monday was a doozie. I had a major breakdown Monday night. Like, crying so hard I had to pull off the road. Thank God for Meredith. I don't know that I would have made it home without her talking me through it. I said a lot of things that I didn't mean that night. I'm noticing more and more that I do that when I get frustrated and angry, and I know that I have got to stop. I know I do. The rest of the week hasn't been much better. I just feel, for lack of a better word, BLAH. I don't get excited about anything really. Most of the things I do after work and on the weekends, I only do because I feel like they are expected of me. Honestly, I would rather just stay home and hang out with Chelsea and Bear, read, watch TV, just "be". This week was week three of the Lexapro. I think it's pretty obvious this is not the drug for me. I go in Monday for a med check and I am sure Korman will know just by looking at me. He just has that ability.
So, tonight I was actually "okay". I was going to meet an old friend for a quiet dinner and talked to my mother on the way to meet Amy. First she's bitching at me to change the call back tone on my phone (my thoughts-you don't like it, don't call), then she starts giving me a hard time because I hadn't committed to going sailing. I have things I have to get done around the house, you know, like normal people do on the weekends? But see, she's had a maid for, oh, I guess the last 30 something years. If it wasn't my sister or me, it was someone else. Just not her. She thinks that everyone should just be able to go and do as she does. There's a reason her boat is named "Planet Janet". She literally lives on her own planet, and thinks everyone else's lives should revolve around hers. So, she gets pissed off at me because I really wasn't in the mood to be given a hard time about ANYTHING, and spouts off some shit like, "Well, you just have a bad attitude, so..." That's when I hung up the phone. Now, I don't usually hang up on people, but I knew EXACTLY how she was going to finish that sentence. Something along the lines of, "...I'm just going to let you go." Well, I beat her to it. I'm just so sick of her lack of empathy. She has made no effort at trying to understand why I am the way I am right now. I really think that she thinks I should be over it already. That life should be back to normal, whatever normal is or was, and that I should be done grieving and that I have no right to still be upset. How do I make her understand? And that's a rhetorical question, because I know that's impossible.
And people wonder WHY I've secluded myself and limit what, where and who I spend time with.
Well, enough rambling. Just had to vent, I suppose.

32 years ago

Nakia "Nick" Elathey Joseph Ware was born.

Happy birthday, love of my life. You are in my constant thoughts, and will always occupy a huge part of my heart and soul. I only wish you could have seen how special you were to everyone that knew you. You touched so many people's lives with your smile, and the kind things you always did for everyone. You are so missed. By me, by your mom, your mahmah, Krystal, Micheal. Everyone.

I miss your guts. I sure wish we could find that keychain from three years ago.

I love you. Always and forever.

He's everywhere.

When I am in Lake Charles, there are memories of him every where I go. They don't usually hit me as hard as they did today.

He's at the Microtel, walking across the parking lot to his truck, which was the last time I saw him. The Microtel was also where we made love for the first time.

He's at Bennigan's, sitting at our table on the bayou, drinking a margarita on the rocks.

He's at the Civic Center, where we saw our first Pat Green concert together, and where we had a picnic on what was probably one of the windiest days EVER. We had to take turns eating and holding the other's stuff down.

He's at the boat launch, our quiet place to talk and just "be".

He's at America's Best Inn and Suites, our second choice hotel in Lake Charles.

He's at Johhny Carino's, his favorite place to eat.

He's in the parking garage at the hospital where we left his truck the first time he came to stay with me, which was also the weekend of our first date, and our first kiss. He's hugging me and kissing me trying to stop my tears. I knew he was special to me even after that very first date.

He's at the mall. That boy loved to shop.

He's at my grandparent's house, in the garage where we sat and talked for hours one night.

He's at my cousin's house, where we stayed one night, and where he brought me roses for the very first time. That was also the night I made him my famous lasagna, which turned out to be his most favorite thing ever.

He's everywhere.

How dare he leave me with this.

I am so angry at him right now that I can't even see straight. There are a handful of songs that I can listen to that cause me to "lose it". Three of them were played tonight. Even when I try to think of the wonderful things that could be happening in my life, my thoughts turn to him, and I am angry and bitter. And I cling to "things" (read: people) that aren't really mine to cling to.

I never thought I could love someone so much. But was that because I thought he needed saving? He very obviously did, I just wasn't the one that could save him. I guess no one could. I do have that problem. With thinking that everyone needs to be saved, and that I am the one who can save them. I wonder what I have to do to save myself?

Am I ever going to be capable of a healthy relationship now? I know that men who know what's happened in the last few months are going to be hesitant to have anything to do with me. I don't blame them one bit. I don't.

Let Go

Let Go
Allison Moorer

Sometimes in the mornings I wake up devastated that you're gone
It drives me kinda crazy and I tell myself it's been a little long
To still be expecting you to call me up on the phone
I don't like holding on but I can't let go
Sometimes a photograph of you will take my breath away
I don't think that time's a healer no matter what folks say
How can years fly by so fast and breaks in a heart mend so slow
I don't like holding on but I can't let go
Sometimes I'm in a room full of people when old lonely sits by me
And it makes me sad to realize that unlike you he wont ever leave
I wish I had some kind of pill to take this feeling from my bones
I don't like holding on but I can't let go

Anahuac

I used to send Nick a text message, "Guess where I am", every time I went through Anahuac, regardless of where we were in our relationship. It was another one of our inside jokes. I think it started because everytime we talked when I was on the way to or from Lake Charles or Oberlin, I was in Anahuac. I've made 6 trips through Anahuac since the day he died, and I cry each and every time I hit the Anahuac City Limit sign. I really miss him when I'm driving home from Lake Charles... I miss him driving TO LC also, but more when I'm on my way home. I guess because I'm sad having just left the family behind and thoughts of him only add to the sadness. I spent Christmas Eve with his mom. It was REALLY hard being in his house, sitting in "our" spot on the couch, being in his room just for that short amount of time. I also realized that day on my way to Oberlin that December 24th would have been 3 years since we met. The next milestone to get through is going to be Saturday, that will be 3 years since the very first time he called me. January 17th would be 3 years since our very first date, and the 18th would be 3 years since our first kiss.

I never thought I could miss someone so much. And I never thought I could feel this empty.